


Lakay Night Folk

by Angelicasdean



Series: Tumblr prompts [2]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Arthur Whump, Light Angst, M/M, Post Blessed are the Peacemakers, Slightly - Freeform, Subtle charthur, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, as always arthur has the shittiest luck, night folk honestly terrify me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21545623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelicasdean/pseuds/Angelicasdean
Summary: seanmacguires asked:"You're bleeding" maybe charthur? :0
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Charles Smith
Series: Tumblr prompts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1565209
Comments: 3
Kudos: 90





	Lakay Night Folk

If there’s one thing Arthur absolutely despises, it’s the Lakay swamps. 

Muggy, buggy, alligator and snake infested swamps that stick to his boot and force him to clean out Kleo’s hooves every time he so much as breaths near it. 

Too bad he can’t help but traverse it now, Charles having scoped out a decent robbery. Lakay doesn’t look like much, which is why it’s perfect for rich bastards to hide their fortune in it’s broken down shacks. No sane person would go in search of gold in the middle of this stinky swamp.

Charles had been tipped off that a certain rich family had hidden all its gold and jewelry in one of the cabins; as they were on their way to Italy right about now and didn’t want to have their most valued stolen from them.

Ironic, in a sense.

Arthur wouldn’t have joined if the take hadn’t been tempting, and if Charles hadn’t asked him so kindly to join him. Arthur won’t lie either, he’d been cooped up in camp for far too long. He understands the lockdown he’d been under the first few weeks, but as his shoulder’s aches dwindled into a sharp stab every now and then, he lost his gratitude in favor of feeling choked by the confinements of camp. 

Charles’ offer was a blessing sent from the heavens, a small mercy from the gods. Even better when he was able to sneak away from camp without getting interrupted by Hosea nor Grimshaw. He felt a little like a boy again, sneaking behind Dutch and Hosea’s backs to go for a ride or a drink. 

Charles kept him in check, though, didn’t let strain too bad. 

The shack looks as broken down and abandoned as most of Lakay, inconspicuous, Charles called it. They still approached with caution, Charles forcing Arthur to wait outside and keep a lookout while he scours inside.

Arthur put up an argument, but Charles eventually silenced him with reason. “Bring me along just for the company? I ain’t useless, Charles” Arthur grumbles, and Charles places a warm hand on his forearm.

“No, you’re not. I promise, next time _I’ll_ keep a lookout,” he consoles, and something flutters in Arthur’s chest at the promise of another job. Reluctantly, Arthur lets Charles head inside alone, pulling out his pistol and looking around the empty swamp.

The light barely filters through the trees, thick air placing a cough in Arthur’s chest as he flexes his shoulder in trial. 

It’s barely a few minutes later that he hears it, a very, _very_ faint squelching sound. He turns around, expecting Charles to emerge from the cabin, almost jumping out of his skin when he finds three men holding machetes up high.

His shoulder twinges in pain as he raises his pistol and fires quickly. Only two shots land, one falling, and the remaining two men charge at him. Arthur stumbles back, trying to aim, pausing midway to shield his face from the oncoming strike. 

The machete slices through his jacket, thankfully, his neck had been protected by his arm. A second later, Arthur doesn’t hesitate to shoot the deranged man several times, almost emptying his clip as the last remaining lunatic tries to stab him.

Arthur dodges it barely, feeling the blade cut along his cheek and nose as he flinches back even more. 

Mud slippery underneath his feet, Arthur finds himself falling on his ass and sliding through mud as the remaining man raises his machete up high. Arthur raises his pistol, but doesn’t get to fire, the man’s head exploding and splattering blood across Arthur’s face. The headless body falls with a squelch as Charles runs towards Arthur.

“Arthur! are you alright,” Charles asks worriedly, hands skimming along Arthur’s face, rough fingers swiping along the cut on his cheek with infinite gentleness _“ **You’re bleeding**_ ,” he whispers, soft eyes glancing up to Arthurs.

“It’s fine,” Arthur tries, though he can feel his hands shaking where they lie on his lap, “sons of bitches just took me by surprise”

“Night folk,” Charles says, and Arthur nods. He’d heard the name before, never encountered them, though. “Come on, I have a kit on Taima,”

“You find any gold in there?” Arthur asks, Charles helping him up from the mud. A sizzle of pain climbs up his arm at the touch, and he hisses in pain, looking down on his bloodied jacket. He sighs, lips forming into an almost pout as he notices the cut, “ ‘s my favorite jacket,”

Charles smiles at him, hand sneaking around Arthur’s back, “You’ll be able to afford a new one with the take we’ve got,” he says, and Arthur looks at him, grinning when he notices the bags discarded on the shack’s entrance. Ignoring the pain, Arthur links his arm around Charles’ back, planting a small, quick kiss on the man’s temple before pulling away.

“Get it then!”


End file.
